I daydream about the day you will be my wife. It’ll be Christmastime, and our children will be asleep while we are in the living room by the tree, trying to be quiet but giggling over wine. You will still look beautiful in pajamas with your hair past your shoulders, and I’ll still love the tree lights even if we are getting older. We will try to guess what our boy and girl will say after they notice the half-eaten cookie and the drop of milk left on the plate and tray. And my heart will flutter as you kiss my lips, and we’ll say “Merry Christmas,” because life was meant to be just like this.
